


Prince Charming

by Amina



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 13:31:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amina/pseuds/Amina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac meets a wonderful boy online who is his salvation from the daily torture of his father and boring work at Hale's Diner with his friend Stiles. (Based off of the movie A Cinderella Story)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prince Charming

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This fic is based loosely off of A Cinderella Story (2004) Directed by Mark Rosman starring Hilary Duff and Chad Michael Murray. I do not own the rights to A Cinderella Story. I also do not own the characters in this story. They belong to the creators of Teen Wolf.

 Isaac's lithe fingers glided across the keys of his old computer. Seriously, he was surprised the old dinosaur still booted up as it was only one step removed from dial up. The messenger box blinked at the bottom of his screen, denoting a new message from xxlycanthropexx. Isaac hummed nervously and peeked out the slits in his blinds to see if his dad's car had pulled into the driveway yet. Seeing it vacant, his eyes flew back to the screen to pull up the chat box.

xxlycanthropexx: Hey Isaac!

o0opupo0o: Hey Scott! Sorry I don't know how much I can talk today. My dad will be home any minute.

xxlycanthropexx: boo. I was supposed to talk to you today. Tomorrow?

O0opupo0o: Definitely :)

Isaac stared at the conversation as the light next to his name went dull. Electricity shot up from his fingertips down to his toes. Talking to Scott, even as briefly and about something as lame as that made Isaac smile like a fool. He spun around in the desk chair thinking of Scott as the stains on the ceiling swirled before his eyes.

The sound of a door slamming jolted Isaac out of his daydream. In his happiness, he had forgotten to keep watch for his dad. Falling out of the chair to get to the mouse, he banged his knee on the corner of the desk and struggled to reach the mouse above him. He dragged himself up onto his feet as the sound of footsteps intensified, frantically trying to exit out of the chat window. He jiggled the mouse, hit the spacebar, and turned the monitor on and off, but his worst nightmare had come true. The piece of crap had frozen. Praying to a god he didn't believe in, the tall boy dropped to his knees and scrambled to unplug the power strip. As soon as his finger pulled out the cord, footsteps stopped in front of the door.

“What are you doing under there Isaac?” A gruff voice asked. He swallowed thickly.

“Just, uh, dusting,” he tried, but the older man wasn't buying it. He trudged into the room, managing to make thumping sounds on the thick carpeting and grabbed the back of Isaac's t-shirt, dragging him up to face him. Isaac squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for impact. Today, his dad opted to go for the lazy approach and simply threw him down the stairs before continuing into his office to read the newspaper. Isaac exhaled in relief. A trip down the stairs was better than a trip to the basement after all.

-x-

Isaac cooked a pot of rice and some chicken for his father and scarfed down a cup of coffee for himself at five o'clock. His father hated eating before six o'clock, but at least Isaac had to leave early to go to work, not goofing off. He slipped out the door without a word and pedaled his bike to the diner at the end of the street. He always enjoyed riding his bike around the neighborhood. The feeling of cool air whipping his skin made him forget about everything his father did to him. He usually thought of Scott on his way to work.

His pleasant thoughts were shattered by the harsh fluorescent lighting in Hale's Diner. The owner was the ever curmudgeon Derek Hale who inherited it from his mother. When Derek took it over, the locals affectionately renamed it Hell's Diner. The legend greeted him with an order when he walked in the door. He barely had time to slip the grey uniform over his own t-shirt and lace up his yellow roller skates before he was relegated to service duty. Service duty, or waiting tables, was the absolute worst on Saturday nights. For some reason, teenagers dubbed Hale's Diner the coolest place to be on Saturday nights, something Derek was happy about, but Isaac loathed.

Head down, he walked over to a pack of them that went to his school. They resembled wild animals, salivating over the food and each other, howling at everything. He passed out the laminated menus and pulled out a small notepad and pencil.

“What would you like to drink?” He muttered, trying to avoid eye contact. Of course, Jackson, the definition of meathead jock, recognized him.

“Well, well, well, look who we have here,” He teased. Isaac rolled his eyes at the unoriginality of the comment. “Are you so poor you have to work at this crummy diner?” He laughed. Somewhere in the building, Derek was cursing.

“Leave him alone,” A pretty girl with long brown hair chastised, hitting him playfully on the shoulder.

“Don't tell my boyfriend what to do Allison,” a redhead narrowed her eyes from across the table. At any rate, Jackson continued as if there had been no interruption.

“So, diner boy, what do you recommend? The milkshake? Oh wait, that's probably too expensive for you,” he trailed off, amused by his own stupid jokes. Scott McCall, one of Jackson's cronies cleared his throat, directing Isaac's attention to the crooked grin at the other end of the table next to Allison.

“I'll have a diet pepsi,” he said politely. Isaac almost scoffed aloud. He wanted to shake his head and say 'honey, you don't need a diet with those abs,' but of course, he just nodded and wrote down the order. Finally, Jackson ordered, water of all things, apparently he was watching his figure too. Isaac skated away across the checkerboard floor, deftly clipping the order slip to Derek's clothesline in his kitchen.

“Isaac, that goes to Stiles. He's doing drinks tonight,” Derek huffed, sweating behind a steaming fryer. Grimacing, Isaac wheeled over to his friend and new coworker. The frenzied boy balked at the new orders.

“No way dude, I just finished the last order!” He complained. Isaac smirked.

“Relax, half of these are just water,” Stiles frowned but loaded up a tray of two waters, a coffee, and a diet pepsi nevertheless. Isaac couldn't help but chuckle as Stiles wobbled on his way over to the table of laughing hyenas. He was still a little unstable on his skates, but he slammed the drink tray down with confidence and took their food order.

-x-

Towards the end of the night, after the packs of teenagers had vacated, presumably to go vandalize a wall or smash a pumpkin, Stiles and Isaac cleaned up the front room while Derek worked in the kitchen. Stiles worked on a vomit stain on the ground while Isaac lazily wiped down the countertop.

“So how's it going with werewolf boy?” Stiles asked, grunting in disgust as his elbow brushed the pool of partially digested cheesecake.

“Great. He's so perfect. He always tells me about how he's gonna shake the dust of this crummy little town off his feet and he's gonna go see the world,” he said dreamily. Stiles laughed bitterly.

“Pretty sure that's a quote from _It's a Wonderful Life_ dude,” Isaac bristled.

“Still, it's a nice sentiment,” he rebutted. Stiles stood up suddenly throwing down his puke stained rag.

“Isaac you need to get a real man, not some 50 year old pedophile you met online,” Isaac's eyes widened in horror.

“He's not an old pedophile!” He shouted. Stiles drew closer, invading his personal space.

“Have you ever seen a picture of him?” he asked. Isaac's silence gave him his answer.

“Well you're not exactly the most eligible bachelor,” he shot back at his friend. The short haired boy smirked unexpectedly at the insult.

“Not yet, but you see that hunk of meat back there?” pointing to the kitchen. “That's gonna be mine, you just watch,” he waggled his eyebrows. Isaac gasped.

“No way, you are not gonna get Derek. Derek isn't even human. He doesn't have any feelings besides hate. He's like a hate robot,” Isaac argued. Stiles scoffed.

“Oh ye of little faith,” he said dramatically as he untied his apron and slipped into the kitchen with a swing of his hips.

The brooding grump of a man scrubbed harshly at the sink with steel wool.

“What do you want Stiles?” He asked gruffly, not making eye contact. Stiles brushed the back of his neck with his fingers.

“I'm just saying Hello Der-bear. Wow, it is so hot in here. How do you stay cool? I'm going to take my shirt off,” he teased clumsily, grabbing the hemline of his shirt. Derek seized his forearm roughly. “Woah, didn't know you were into BDSM but hey I'm down with that,” he laughed, but Derek held him frozen.

“If you take your shirt off you will be violating 5 health codes. Get the hell out of my kitchen before I violate three more when I beat the crap out of you,” he threatened. Stiles smiled sheepishly and retreated into the front room with Isaac. The taller boy was waiting by the door for his friend.

“Wow, that went really well,” he chuckled.

“Fuck you,” Stiles shot back before getting into his jeep and waving goodbye. Isaac swung a leg over his bike and did a few circles around the block to clear his head. There was no way Scott was a 50 year pedophile. He talked just like a teenager. He worried about SAT scores and talked about the new Fall out Boy album and complained about a lack of privacy, but then again, Isaac had watched that episode of _CSI_ once where a rapist had posed as a teenager so convincingly that even the cops didn't suspect him. The boy who was kidnapped and raped in that episode had ended up ass over head in a dumpster somewhere outside Detroit. Feeling panic set in, Isaac did a few more circles on his bike. Of course, the first thing he did when he got home, aside from making sure his dad was passed out on the sofa as usual, was find Scott on IM.

o0opupo0o: Hey...so you're not a 50 year old pedophile who wants to kidnap me right?

xxlycanthropexx: What? Of course not. You remember it took me three weeks to tell you my FIRST name. If I was a 50 year old pedophile who wanted to kidnap you, I'd be doing a really shitty job at it.

o0opupo0o: Hmm, sounds like something a 50 year old pedophile would say.

xxlycanthropexx: very funny. What's up? (besides u thinking i'm out to get u)

o0opupo0o: not much, my friend is trying to get into my boss' pants again. You?

xxlycanthropexx: My girlfriend broke up with me. Said something about not standing up for her? I don't know. We all knew it was coming. We haven't really gone out in forever.

o0opupo0o: Yay! Psycho girlfriend is out of the picture. That means you and I have a chance if we ever meet. ;)

xxlycanthropexx: If I ever meet you Isaac, i'm gonna throw you on the back of my motorcycle and we're gonna shake the dust and see the world.

o0opupo0o: my friend says that's a quote from a movie. I caught you!

xxlycanthropexx: damn! It's still a good quote though. We'll go see the grand canyon and mount rushmore, and area 51 and the great lakes.

o0opupo0o : Almost all of those are in America Scott. Besides, I don't know if I want to go to all those big tourist spots. I'm fine with just lying in a wheat field in Nebraska and staring up at the clouds.

xxlycanthropexx: We can do that too! You can look at every little grain of wheat in the world. I could sit for days with you and look up at the clouds.

o0opupo0o: Promise me this will actually happen Scott. Please. I need this to happen. I need someone to sweep me away from this miserable existence.

xxlycanthropexx: Sure Cinderella, I promise. ;P

The conversation ended shortly thereafter. Despite the nickname and the smiley face, Isaac knew Scott was serious about his promise. He went to bed in a cocoon of warmth that night, excited for the future for the first time.

-x-

Isaac awoke to the sun streaming down onto his face. Smiling sleepily, he checked the time on the clock and nearly fell out of bed at the sight of it. It was 9:30. His dad would already be awake. His dad would have woken up to no breakfast, something horrible. Isaac patted down the stairs softly in his pajama pants. Sure enough, his dad sat at the table, waiting for him. Isaac walked into the dining room ready to apologize.

“Oh my gosh dad I'm so sorry. I overslept. I must have forgotten to set my alar-,” he was cut off by the sound of glass colliding with drywall. The man sat otherwise calmly in his seat, a sight unnerving for Isaac to behold. He started up again: “Look, I can make you breakfast now. Something special, how about pancakes?” He asked, moving over to the cupboards to pull out a mixing bowl, but his arm was stopped by a firm grip. The teen shrunk back from the grip, knowing enough not to pull away from the blow. His father was more creative today, deciding to decorate the walls with Isaac's blood as he pinned him up against a picture of a bird on a twig.

A half hour later, Mr. Lahey was off at work, and Isaac was in front of the TV nursing a black eye. Derek would give him hell showing up to the diner looking like this. He pulled his aching body off the couch and into the little half bathroom next to their kitchen. His father didn't like to use the small bathroom, so Isaac kept some makeup reserved for times when his father marked his face. He thought he could have a future as a makeup artist as he surveyed his work. You could barely see the purple peeking through the concealer, just making him look tired as opposed to beaten.

At around 2:00, he swiveled into his desk chair and booted up his old computer. He and Scott coordinated times they would be on, so they would always have each other to talk to at some point during the day.

xxlycanthropexx: Isaac! How goes?

o0opupo0o: Dad being a dick again, but I showed him. >:D

xxlycanthropexx: oh no sweetie, how bad?

Isaac grimaced at the pity he felt in Scott's message, but decided to tell him the truth.

o0opupo0o: pretty bad. I have a gnarly black eye, and I had to scrub the wall to get rid of the blood on it.

xxlycanthropexx: god I just want to come and save you.

o0opupo0o: geez now you really make me sound like Cinderella.

xxlycanthropexx: and i'll be your Prince Charming :)

o0opupo0o: god you're so corny, but I love it.

Scott was silent for a while. Isaac figured his mom had called him to do something for her, so he was surprised when he got a message an hour later.

xxlycanthropexx: Hey so I've been thinking...maybe it's time for us to meet. I just need to see you. I go to Beacon Hill's High School, and there's this Halloween dance. Maybe you could be my date?

Isaac's heart skipped a beat. He went to Beacon Hills? The same school that Isaac went to? Isaac mentally ran through all the Scott's he knew, but he became frustrated when he realized there were five in his grade alone and he didn't know anyone in the other grades.

o0opupo0o: So this is super creepy, but I go to Beacon Hills too.

xxlycanthropexx: :O No way! How about we make it a surprise? We both buy tickets to the dance, and you can meet me on the dance floor at 11:00 for the last dance. After the dance, we take off our masks and reveal who we are!

o0opupo0o: Yes!

xxlycanthropexx: Okay! See you Tuesday night. I will be dressed as a werewolf in celebration of my screen name.

Isaac couldn't help but go through the rest of the day smiling. His father couldn't even wipe the grin from his lips when he threatened to do so. He excitedly told Stiles about it at work.

“That's awesome. He won't even need the werewolf costume for you to spot him, he'll be the only fifty year old with a pot belly and a pencil mustache in the middle of the dance floor,” he teased one last time.

“Shut up! Who are you taking?” He asked pointedly, knowing Stiles didn't have a date.

“Derek of course,” he said matter of factly. Isaac rolled his eyes.

“There is no way you're going to get Derek to go with you to a high school dance, especially a Halloween dance. What is he going to go as? Oscar the Grouch?” Isaac laughed. Stiles shoved him playfully.

“Actually he already said yes. I told him that I would get him the catering job for the dance if he went with me. He wasn't happy but he ultimately needs the money so homeboy's got a date now!” He said holding up a hand for a high five. “I'm going as a matador, and he's going as a bull,” he smiled.

“I doubt that was fun getting him to agree to being a bull,”

“We haven't exactly had the conversation yet, but I know it's going to happen,” he said confidently. The shop was desolate. He didn’t even know why Derek kept it open on Sundays, no one ever came in. It was a waste of money. Maybe he was just trying to play to the senior citizen crowd who liked to eat out on Sunday nights.

-x-

Monday flew by. Isaac zoned out in all of his classes, probably failing a Spanish quiz because he was too busy trying to decide what to be at the dance. He finally nailed down an idea on his bike ride home. He decided on the classic vampire to counteract Scott's werewolf get up. He didn't want to admit that he read Twilight, but to be honest he found the story kind of cute. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he neglected to notice the front door ajar to his house. Humming _I Put a Spell on You_ , he walked into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. A voice behind him cleared his throat, making him jump a foot in the air and spill his water on the floor.

“Dad, you scared me. I didn't see you there. Sorry, I'll clean up the water,” he said grabbing a paper towel and mopping it up. When he got back up, he noticed a thick packet of paper in front of the man who was sitting solemnly at the table. “What's that dad?” He asked, carefully peering over his shoulder. His stomach dropped when he realized what it was. It was his chat logs with Scott. He was speechless. What does one say in a situation like that? Isaac did the only thing he could think of, he started to cry.

Mr. Lahey treated his son like a ragdoll. Isaac couldn't remember a time he had been beaten so harshly.

“I think it's time we take a trip down to the basement,” he stated calmly. His father was always calm, a misleading characteristic for a monster. Isaac shrieked. Normally he went limp when his father attacked him, remembering a fact he heard somewhere that stated that if you're relaxed you're less likely to break a bone, but at the prospect of the basement he kicked his long legs and dug his nails into his father's flesh. “If you didn't want this to happen, you shouldn't have found some online boyfriend. I read what you guys talk about, what you want to do to him, what he wants to do to you, it's sick,” Isaac whimpered as his father dragged him down the stairs by the back of his shirt. “I think I've made you look so unappealing now that even little sicko Scott won't like you,” he chuckled. Isaac couldn't help but wonder about Scott's reaction as he felt blood trickle down from his clearly broken nose.

The hinges of the fridge creaked, alerting Isaac to his nightmare. He thrashed in one final desperate struggle, but his father's strong arms shoved him into the small space and slammed the door shut. Isaac was okay for a moment, listening to his breaths and the sound of the monster climbing back up the stairs. But soon his breaths grew ragged, and his heart began to beat rapidly. He felt the space closing in, and he let out a hard scream that was swallowed up by the darkness. Wildly, he clawed at the lid of the fridge, leaving fresh bloody claw marks. He had been such a good boy for so long. Eventually, Isaac fell asleep when he got tired of clawing and screaming. When he woke up, he found the lid unlocked. It meant it was time for Isaac to go to work. His father would never let him miss a chance to make some money and be useful for once.

-x-

Not bothering to take the extra time to put on makeup, Isaac flew out the door and rode down to the diner. When he walked in, Stiles and Derek stopped dead in their tracks.

“Oh my god. He did this to you?” Stiles asked incredulously, touching the dried blood on Isaac's cheek.

“He looked like an asshole,” Derek chimed in, balling his fists at his side. Isaac cocked his head in question.

“Yeah, your dad dropped by rather menacingly to tell us that you will not be going to the Halloween dance and will be working here that night. It was more of a threat than a statement,” Stiles muttered. Isaac collapsed onto a booth, ignoring the stares from customers.

“It's okay. It was only a matter of time until it caught up to me. I deserve it. Go, have your fun. I'll hold down the fort here,” he smiled sadly. Derek threw down his apron.

“No! I've heard you swoon over this boy for months on end. You guys are meant to be goddammit. I'll stay here and cover for you for your dad, you go meet your Prince Charming,” he declared. Stiles raised his eyebrows.

“Woah, never would have guessed grumpy cat over here was a sucker for love, but dude you owe me a dance,” he said angrily. Derek held up his hands.

“You can stay here with me Stiles. I promise you I will dance with you,” he sighed, but Stiles looked excited.

Isaac stayed home the next day, hoping in vain that his obscene bruises would heal in time for the dance. Looking in the mirror, he felt more like Quasimodo than a suave vampire. Thankfully, he bought a black masquerade mask to reveal his face at the last moment. He went for new school vampire with a black on black suit and a long flowing red cape. His pointy patent leather shoes with red accents completed the look. He shoved the outfit into a backpack and hopped in the passenger seat of his dad's car on his way to the diner. His dad insisted on driving Isaac to work, to make sure he didn't scamper off and go to the dance.

“I'll be back to pick you up at 12:00 son. If you're not waiting outside at that time, you're going back into the fridge and you won't see daylight for weeks,” he threatened. Isaac swallowed nervously.

Isaac told Stiles and Derek of his father's pick up time at which they groaned. He changed into his outfit and exited the restrooms to wolf whistles from his friends.

“Boy you look fine. He's gonna wolf down that ass,” Stiles winked. Isaac flipped him off. Derek gave him a ride to the school just before 11:00 lest his father had gone earlier to make sure Isaac wasn't there.

-x-

Isaac's fingers trembled on the door to the gym. He gathered his courage and swung them open. The dance was mystifying. Beautiful orange and purple decorations adorned the walls and ceiling. Ghouls and goblins twirled on either side. Isaac walked tentatively scouting the crowd for his werewolf. The throng of creatures parted slightly, and he noticed a hairy figure in the center facing away from the stairs. He glided down the remaining steps and placed a hand on the lycanthrope's shoulder.

“Scott?” He questioned quietly, but the boy spun around, revealing Jackson's minion Scott McCall. Whatever mask he had had on hung loosely at the base of his neck.

“Isaac?” He asked hopefully. Every inkling of hatred or jealousy Isaac harbored for the boy melted when he heard his name drop from his lips. In his name, he heard the late night conversations he had with Scott, he heard the Scott that knew everything about him. This was the Scott he loved.

-x-

The diner was utterly deserted. A tumble weed could have blown by symbolically if Stiles had left the door open. The radio played quietly in the distance. Stiles picked at the dirt under his fingernails while he glared at his boss who, defiantly, sat at a booth playing solitaire with a fixed frown on his face. So far, Eyore had not kept his promise of a dance.

“Dance with me!” He demanded, not moving from his place behind the counter. Derek just kept playing cards. Stiles stuck out his tongue and angrily chewed at his nail beds, muttering dirty words under his breath. He was really ripping on his boss when a familiar tune began to emanate from the old radio. Stiles flew to the rusty thing and turned up the volume to eleven. The poppy beat bounced off the metal furniture. Derek's head snapped up.

“No,” he said firmly. Stiles grabbed a broom and began to shimmy his way across the room.

“Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want,” he mouthed into the head of the broom. Derek rolled his eyes, actively not answering him. Stiles repeated the line again, looking for a response. “ I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna really really really wanna zigazig ah,” he belted out, shaking his hips. Derek arose quickly, trying to disappear into the back room, but Stiles grabbed him and spun him in circles. Derek stood still as Stiles danced around him. “If you want my future forget my past,” he sang dramatically, still twirling around his boss. Derek couldn't help but smile as Stiles launched into the next chorus, remaining as energetic as he was when he started. The grin spread from ear to ear, and before he could stop himself, Derek found himself joining in. 

“If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends make it last forever friendship never ends,” he sang. Stiles' eyebrows shot through the roof as he let out a triumphant screech. The pair boogied up and down the short length of the diner, twisting and bumping and all the while belting out the lyrics to _Wannabe._

Derek collapsed in exhaustion on a red vinyl booth while Stiles skated aimlessly in his bliss. 

“How did you get me to do that?” He asked incredulously. Stiles shrugged. 

“Everybody likes the Spice Girls,” 

Derek laughed, and the pair gradually went back to their respective places at the diner. Stiles lazily dusted the cash register while Derek played with his phone. Suddenly, Derek cleared his throat, breaking his stony silence. 

“You know that doesn't count as your dance right?” He asked. Stiles cocked his head in question. “ I am not having Spice Girls be our first dance Stiles,” he chuckled. The bigger man stood up and walked slowly over to the scrawnier kid. Stiles backed against the wall. As usual, his mind was running a mile a minute. 

“Wait, first dance? Like, there's gonna be more dances? What?” He blathered, trying to make sense of what Derek had said. He opened his mouth to ask more questions, but Derek growled and yanked him into the center of the room. His phone played a tinny version of Unchained Melody that made Stiles feel like he should be sculpting a vase. Derek pulled him tight to his chest and began to sway in time with the song. Stiles smiled and hung his head over Derek's shoulder, reaching his arms around to feel the muscles of his back. The only sound that filled the now dim diner was the song and the quiet squeaking of their sneakers as they swayed. 

“Wow, I think this is the quietest I've ever heard you. Maybe I should do this more often,” Derek laughed. Stiles punched his shoulder playfully. 

“Is that a threat or a promise? Now shut up don't ruin this for me,” he muttered into the soft fabric of Derek's sweater. 

-x-

Isaac's heart flew up into his throat. He nodded furiously, and Scott grabbed him to pull him into the last few seconds of the slow song that was playing. Scott couldn't tell what he looked like yet, but he still seemed happy to be dancing with him. Scott's werewolf ears moved gently from side to side as they swayed. The song stopped quickly, and the pair stood in silence on the dance floor. Scott broke the pause. 

“I can't believe it's really you,” he laughed exhaustedly. “You're exactly the way I pictured, well except I can't see your face,” he pointed out. Isaac bit his lip, nervous to show Scott the bloody pulp that was his face. He grabbed his partner's hand as a new song started up. 

“Wait, I love this song,” he said, hoping that Scott would forget about his mask afterwards. Scott raised an eyebrow at the statement. Isaac actually hadn't been listening to what song had come on, but he regretted not taking his mask off right then and there when he realized that it was Ice Ice baby. Isaac was horrified, not only will his potential boyfriend see his messed up face, but he now also thinks that he listens to stupid 90's rap songs. 

“Gotta love the classics. I actually know the choreography to this,” Scott said sheepishly, busting into a series of precise and embarrassing dance moves. Isaac couldn't help but double over in laughter. “What? You said you liked this song?” Scott cried, not breaking from his dancing. Isaac nodded, trying to catch his breath. “Dance with me!” He exclaimed. Throwing caution to the wind, Isaac jumped in next to Scott to bump and grind. 

Ice Ice baby definitely was not what Isaac had in mind for their first song, but surprisingly it was nice. He knew, watching Scott laugh at his weak dance skills, that they would be comfortable together. The music stopped suddenly, and Isaac heard the clock tick 12:00. He pulled frantically away from Scott. 

“I'm sorry, I have to go!” He shouted, slipping off his shoes in order to book it back to the diner. He tied the laces together and swung them over his shoulder. In his haste up the stairs, one of the patent leather beauties tumbled to the ground, serving as a ghostly reminder of Isaac's presence. 

“But I didn't even see your face,” Scott said sadly, walking over to the shoe and inspecting it. 

-x-

Stiles and Derek were too busy basking in the afterglow of their dance to notice when a pickup truck with their high beams on pulled up to the diner. Stiles shot a glance up to the clock and leaped from his spot next to Derek when he saw the time. 

“Shit, shit, shit! It's 12:00 and Isaac's not here!” He shouted, pacing around the room and wringing his hands. Derek stood up and tried to calm him down. 

“It'll be ok! I'll go out there and try to distract him. You call Isaac and tell him to get his ass back here,” Derek said quietly before taking a deep breath and bracing himself to go talk to Mr. Lahey. Stiles feverishly dialed Isaac's number, but it was just ringing. He heard the familiar voice mail and a quick beep signaling him to leave a message. 

“Isaac you dick, your crazy dad's here. Come back!” He pleaded, hanging up and throwing the cell phone in desperation. 

Isaac had heard the phone ring, but he was running too quickly to pick it up. His heart thundered in his chest as he passed light posts and stoplights. Despite the dire situation he was in, he couldn't help smile when he thought about Scott. Even though he was running harder than he ever had in his life and his throat was raw with the cold October air, he felt warm inside. 

Meanwhile, Derek was attempting to make nice with Isaac's dad. 

“Hi Mr. Lahey. I'm Derek Hale, the owner? We met yesterday briefly. I just wanted to say that your son is a great worker,” he said smiling. Mr. Lahey narrowed his eyes in suspicion. 

“Okay...where is he?” He asked. 

“Uh, I'm making him clean the bathroom right now. He'll be out in a little bit,” he said trying to remain friendly. Stiles became visible as he walked to the window of the diner. Lahey gestured to the boy. 

“That boy Stiles?” He asked. Derek nodded in response. “That boy is not allowed to talk to my son anymore. He has a crush on you, and I don't want Isaac to get any ideas from him,” he threatened. 

Derek just swallowed thickly. 

-x-

Isaac's heart stopped dead when he saw the pickup truck in front of the diner. He nearly walked right up to it to offer himself up to get some sort of plea bargain out of the deal, but he saw Derek, his savior, talking to his very irritated father. Silently thanking Derek, he slipped into the diner through the side door. When Stiles saw the sweaty, makeup streaked teen barge through the door, he exploded into a fit of screams. 

“Thank God you're here! Go wipe that makeup and change your clothing quick!” He ordered, thrusting a set of clothing into Isaac's arms. As soon as Isaac disappeared into the bathroom, his dad walked through the door. Derek followed behind shooting Stiles a 'I tried my best' look which Stiles followed up with a thumbs up. 

“Isaac!” His father thundered as he banged on the bathroom door. Derek clutched Stiles' arm with bated breath. The bathroom door swung open to reveal a normal looking Isaac. Both coworkers breathed a sigh of relief. Isaac walked out of the restroom and followed his father to the car. The car ride home was tense. Mr. Lahey clearly thought Isaac was up to no good, be he couldn't prove otherwise. Just after the car rolled up in front of the house, Isaac's father stopped him. 

“Son? Why do you only have one shoe?” he asked. Isaac froze. How was he supposed to explain that? “You went to the dance didn't you? You thought you could fool me!” He growled. Isaac went limp as his father dragged him into the house. Once inside, he twisted his son's arm until bones popped against their joints. Isaac screamed out, kicking his father in the shins in revolt. The larger man dropped to the ground on top of his son, pinning him to the floor. “I will break every goddamn bone in your body,” he whispered. Isaac spat in his face.

Reeling from the assault, Mr. Lahey stood up and blindly searched for a towel to wipe his eyes. Isaac used the opportunity to stand up and push himself into a corner. He balled up his fists, ready to truly fight back for the first time. His father stumbled backwards, finding a large knife on the counter with his hands. He gripped the knife and took a step toward Isaac. 

“Dad, what are you doing?” Isaac asked, horrified. His father had never used anything but his fists. Screaming, Isaac kicked as his father rushed towards him. In the midst of blows, the door swung open. A shorter boy with werewolf ears had entered the house. “Scott?” Isaac asked incredulously. The boy's eyes widened as he took in the scene. He immediately rushed to Isaac's side and helped push Mr. Lahey into a table. The large table collapsed under his weight, and the glasses and ceramic plates rained down on him, temporarily knocking him out. 

“C'mon Isaac. My motorcycle's outside. Let's go,” he said, grabbing the other boy's arm and running outside. Isaac wrapped his arms around Scott's waist and buried his head in his shoulder as he sped off into the night. After a while of speeding down main street, he spoke:

“How did you know to come find me?” He asked. 

“I wanted to see you after the dance, and then I heard screaming coming from inside the house. I knew your dad was a maniac, so I put two and two together,” he explained. Isaac shook his head. 

“No, how did you know where to go? I've never told you where I live, and you didn't even know what I looked like?” He wondered. “Oh my god? Was it the shoe? Did you remember that I wear shoes like that and came looking for me like Prince Charming looking for Cinderella?” He asked excitedly. Scott laughed. 

“Actually, I just asked my friend Danny to trace your IP address, but we'll go with your story. After all, you are my Cinderella,” he said, intentionally being cheesy. Isaac slapped his back. 

“And you're my Prince Charming,” he smiled, relaxing into his new future. 


End file.
